


A Study in Promises

by Neeka



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Paranoia, Pranks, Promises, Slow Burn, Totally ignores What Happened in 8x08, Trauma, after AOW, brief mention of self harm in regards to cigarette burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neeka/pseuds/Neeka
Summary: Five promises between two lonely souls just trying to make their way through what’s left of the world





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a little drabble in response to an Anon prompting me with Desus and promises, which soon morphed into this. I’m not sure how it happened either to be honest but I really enjoyed it. Each chapter is finished and will be posted once i’ve edited each one. Hope you enjoy and if anyone has any more prompts for me, hit me up xxxx

He was going to kill him. Daryl was hands down, no doubt about it, going to throttle the little prick.

The war had been tough on all of them and even months down the line, the scars left by it were still tender and visible, but slowly, they were healing from it. This showed in different ways for each person.

Maggie was relaxing again, smiling like she hadn’t in a long time, especially whenever she touched her ready to pop baby bump. Carol was able to step back from fighting once again, focusing on leading a badly damaged Kingdom and more than anything, letting herself be close to someone again. Even if that someone was an overly theatrical ‘King’. Rick wasn’t so paranoid, he was actually able to enjoy his family and let go of the idea that he was the only person who everyone depended on to keep them alive. Aaron was still mourning, just as Maggie was, but he was getting to explore a side of himself he’d thought he could never have and become a father to Gracie, her joyful babbles and laughter bringing an almost shocked smile to his face every time.

Everyone was working through their shit and moving forward. Daryl just wished Paul’s way of doing that wasn’t to, once again, actually _become_ a shit. An annoying, sneaky, tricky little shit.

Daryl had come back from his hunt, skinned his catches, dropped them off for the kitchen to work with and finally returned to the trailer he shared with Jesus, actually looking forward to doing nothing much at all until he was needed for watch duty after lunch. However, his plans were promptly ruined when he opened the door and discovered that every single thing of his was missing. Everything.

All that was left was a single cigarette on top of a heart shaped post it note with Paul’s messy scrawl all over it. Stomping over, he pocketed the cigarette with a huff and read the note.

_The Annual Daryl Dixon Treasure Hunt has commenced!_

_Come find me where the iron’s hot_   
_I am the first step of the lot_

Oh that little bastard was dead. A fucking treasure hunt, was he five? Shaking his head at the hassle that had apparently become his day, Daryl stomped out of the trailer and looked around, hoping to catch sight of the long haired menace. But of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Paul obviously wanted to torment him with a damn treasure hunt and there would be nothing Daryl could do but follow it or say goodbye to his stuff. Looking at the note again, he headed off to Earl’s stall, assuming Paul was referring to the forge.

As he passed a few Hilltop residents, he noticed them staring at him and smirking, ducking their heads and sniggering once he’d passed. Of course the whole of Hilltop had probably seen Paul running around with his stuff, gleefully leaving him damn treasure hunt clues. God he was getting a headache already.

Marching to the forge, Earl barely raised his head before pointing to another damn post it note stuck on to the wooden frame of his stall. Snatching it off and pointedly ignoring the blacksmith’s smirk, Daryl read the next damn clue.

_Follow my trail and you will be_   
_Back with your shit in time for tea_

Who the hell had time for this shit? He knew Paul damn well shouldn’t, what with the way he ran around doing triple the amount of work of everyone else. The only place he could think of that would make sense for the clue was the kitchens, which would also explain the giggling of one of the cooks that Daryl had ignored when dropping off his catch.

Heading into Barrington house, Daryl glared at every person who looked his way too long, knowing damn well they knew what was going on. He entered the kitchen and headed up to Martha, the old gal who ran the place with an iron fist. She looked up at him, smirked and carried on peeling her potatoes.

Hanging on to every last shred of his already fraying patience, it was hardly her fault Paul was a dick after all, he tried to wipe the death glare off his face.

“Is there a damn note here for me then? I know ya’ll know what’s goin’ on.”

“There best be a please going along with that mister Dixon.”

“Please,” he ground out, “could ya give me my damn note ‘fore I kick his ass any harder then I’m already gonna.”

She cackled and put down her potato.

“Oh boy, you keep dreamin’.”

Still chortling to herself, she reached into her pocket and handed him another note. “You be nice to him ya hear? It’s good to see him back to his old tricks. Frowns don’t suit tha’ pretty face.”

“Yeah yeah.” He said with a scoff, turning and leaving the kitchen, more cackles following him out. Stopping in the hall, he read the latest note, which damn well best be the last.

_With veg or fruit or pretty flowers_  
 _We’ve stayed here on our knees for hours_ ;)

Oh for fucks sake, there was even a damn wink. Refusing to acknowledge the heat in his cheeks, Daryl left the big house and headed straight ahead to the main growing area, specifically the section he and Paul had been working on recently.

Sure enough, he saw another note right in the middle of the soil weighted down with a pebble. There was no way to reach it without standing on the soil and Maggie would have his balls if he crushed anything. Getting his balance, he bent forward to reach it, stretching his arms out and trying not to fall over, only to see the note was empty.

Then a loud, sharp wolf whistle echoed over Hilltop followed by a familiar voice.

“Daaamn, it really is a nice view from up here!”

Standing up and whipping around, Daryl looked up to see Paul straddling the little roof of one of the uppermost windows of Barrington house, the biggest shit eating grin he’d ever seen on his face with all of Daryl’s stuff spread out along the rest of them.

Laughter broke out around him as the residents of Hilltop stood around rubber necking.

“You little shit! Get the hell down from there ‘fore you fall and break your damn neck!”

“Nope, I don’t think I will thanks. It’s nice up here! Got plenty of supplies to last me too.”

Daryl watched as Paul reached into his pocket and took out his last packet of cigarettes, putting one between his lips. The fucker didn’t even smoke!

“Then bring my shit down here ‘fore I break it for ya!”

Paul laughed loud and clear, like a damn bell, his smile blinding even from here.

“Oh promises promises Daryl.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl was, by habit and necessity, a light sleeper and an early riser. Paul tended to be as well, either waking up the same time as Daryl or just after. But it was very rare for Daryl to wake up to an empty trailer and no sign of Paul anywhere. Usually he’d assume he just hadn’t slept at all, staying up and doing some job or another, but they’d both headed in together and shot the shit for a bit before going to sleep.

It was strange but not outright worrying, so Daryl just shrugged and got on with his morning; washing up, grabbing one of the shit tasting but very filling homemade protein bars and heading out. He’d run into Paul at some point he was sure.

Except he didn’t. He’d been working in various areas of Hilltop for hours and hadn’t caught sight of his friend once. He’d seen Maggie working with Enid in the garden so he knew Paul wasn’t with her, he wasn’t on watch, he wasn’t anywhere.

Daryl lasted another two hours before he caved and started asking around. No one had seen him, not since yesterday. And what’s more, no one seemed worried. It wasn’t until he asked Maggie that he felt justified in his concern, as she also reported not seeing him since yesterday with a frown.

Not wanting to cause her any stress, Daryl pushed down the sick churning of his stomach and told her not to worry, he’d either find him or Paul would turn up like a damn cat. She nodded and he headed off, sick worry returning the second he was out of her sight.

Once he was sure Paul was nowhere in Hilltop, he had to assume Paul had left. But why? Marching over to the gate, he called up to Kal.

“You seen Paul anywhere?”

The guard just looked confused. “Err, who?”

Oh for fucks sake. “Jesus, you seen him?”

Expression clearing, Kal nodded. “Yeah he headed out on a run at dawn.”

“The hell? Who with?” Daryl refused to feel hurt that he wasn’t asked along.

“Err, alone of course.”

Daryl’s heart stopped. “What?! The fuck dya let him go out alone for?!”

If Kal didn’t wipe that confused look of his face Daryl would smack it off. Was he not speaking English or some shit?

“I didn’t let him do anything man, he’s always gone out alone. Well, before the war of course. Guess he’s started his runs again.”

Daryl was about to lose his shit, he was sure of it.

“Well where’s he gone then? He comin’ back tonight?”

Kal just shrugged. “Fuck knows man, didn’t ask. He usually has a plan already and comes back once he’s got what he needed or something makes him.”

The absolute lack of worry in Kal’s voice made Daryl twitch to throttle him. Why the fuck did he sound so damn chill about it?

“Calm down, he’s got it handled. Always has before.”

“It only takes one damn mistake ya idiot!” Swallowing back more choice words, Daryl turned away from the gate and headed back to Maggie, still working in the gardens. She looked up at his approach, face twisting with worry at whatever she saw on his.

“Daryl?”

“Damn idiots gone out on a run. On his own! Didn’ even tell no one where he were goin’ or when he’d be back. Kal said that’s normal for him!”

Standing up as quick as her huge belly would allow, she reached out and gently grabbed his shoulders.

“Hey hey, calm down Daryl. I know you’re worried, me too, but he _has_ done it before. I’m sure he’ll be fine and back before you know it.”

But Daryl just shook his head, repeating quietly what he’d snapped at Kal.

“Only takes one mistake Maggie.”

She just squeezed his shoulders and smiled gently at him, worry still evident on her own face. He knew she cared about Paul a lot too.

He spent the rest of the day alternating between one of the many jobs Maggie gave him to keep him occupied and glancing up at the gate. The hours drew on and as the sun began to set, he felt like he was vibrating out of his skin with worry. It must have been obvious to everyone around him, no one even attempting to approach him.

Once full dark set in, Daryl was about ready to get on his bike and head out. Only Maggie’s words managing to convince him to wait until tomorrow, to give him a little longer so Daryl wasn’t heading out one way whilst Paul was coming back another. He stalked back to his trailer, glaring at every Hilltop resident he saw. How the hell weren’t they worried? Why were they so damn used to their most useful resident just fucking vanishing with no word?

The war had hardened the lot of them, those surviving were tough and capable now but they hadn’t always been. And this was just proof that they’d all relied on the efforts of one man long before all that.

Daryl got no sleep that night, his mind never settled and his ears never stopped listening for the gate to open. It felt like an eternity stewing in his own worry in the trailer Paul had welcomed him into, making space for him like it was the easiest thing in the world. Just the sight of his things made Daryl want to be sick.

The second the sun was up, Daryl was out of the trailer, waiting anxiously for any sign of the idiot. More hours passed, more hours of snapping at everyone but Maggie and Enid, pacing Hilltop like a caged lion. By late afternoon he’d reached the end of his tether and headed to Barrington to let Maggie know he was going searching.

“No.”

Daryl stared her down, temper all but erupting. “The hell dya mean ‘no’? Ya ain’t the damn boss of me!”

But as always, she stared him down right back. “No I’m not your boss but I _am_ your friend.”

“An’ you’re _his_ friend too! Ya should be wantin’ me to go look for him! The rest of this lot don’ seem to care but I thought you at least would be worried!”

“It’s because I’m worried that I ain’t letting you go!”

It wasn’t often that Maggie shouted anymore, Carson ordering her to take it easy and there really not being very much need anymore. The sound of it now gave him the shock he needed to bring it down a notch. Maggie seemed to notice this too, moving to sit at her desk with a sigh.

“I’m askin’ you Daryl, please don’t go. I’m already worried enough about one friend, I don’t need another heading off too. You’ve got no idea where he headed and no idea what his plans were. He could be heading back right now and you’d miss him. Then I’d have this exact situation all over again with him charging about like a damn bull and shouting at a pregnant lady.”

Daryl winced, lowering his head. “Nah, he’d never shout at a pregnant lady. Too damn nice.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, the tension between them breaking. “Sorry,” he muttered, “just... don’ like not knowin’ what’s happenin’.”

She just smiled at him, eyes sad and knowing. They stayed in the room for a while, both listening for the gate, feeling like the only two people in a colony of idiots actually worrying about someone too good and too kind for the world they lived in. A world both he and Maggie knew loved to take people like that away.

When night fell once more, Daryl didn’t even try to sleep. He just sat at the table in the trailer and thought over a million worse case scenarios. By now he was a damn expert at them.

By morning, he was about ready to go insane. He dragged himself to the kitchens for coffee and noticed Maggie up and about earlier than usual. They just nodded at each other, allies in fucking worry. He tried to throw himself into as much work as possible, but after nearly putting a hammer through his damn hand, Earl sent him packing.

By the time they were heading into another evening, Daryl had long planted himself on the picnic table in front of his trailer, methodically cleaning and sharpening his knives, tuning up his crossbow and staring holes in the damn gate.

He couldn’t handle another night of not knowing.

Enid came by with a bowl of stew that he hadn’t touched and sat with him for a little while. Her quiet presence was nice and one look at her face reminded him that she also cared about Paul. God he was going to kill him for making them worry like this.

He was considering heading back to Barrington to beg Maggie to let him go out when he heard a car pull up and the gate open. Enid’s head shot up at the same time as his, turning to him with a giant smile on her face. Daryl though, Daryl felt nothing but boiling anger.

Jumping off the table, he charged through Hilltop towards the gate, people wisely moving out of his way. He’d just gotten close enough to overhear Kal say “You’re in trouble with the missus Jesus...” before the gate opened and in the gap stood Paul.

He looked tired but uninjured, smile dropping some as he took in Daryl still charging forward, looking back at Kal like this was some joke he wasn’t in on. At Kal’s answering shrug, Daryl lost it.

“You utter asshole! The hell dya think ya playin’ at?!”

Anyone near the gate seemed to stop and listen. Damn nosy bastards.

“Err, I was on a run? Thought that was fairly obvious.”

At Paul’s flippant tone, Daryl shoved him. The stupid ninja rolled back with it, graceful as always but definitely starting to realise something was wrong. Oh he’d let him know exactly what.

“Yeah! On your damn own! An it ain’ obvious when you jus’ take off without tellin’ no one! Ya know how worried Maggie’s been?”

“Oh yeah, just Maggie huh?” He heard Kal mutter. That did it. Daryl lunged at the guard to knock seven bells out of him but Paul just got in his way.

“Woah now, let’s just calm down yeah?”

Seeing red, Daryl grabbed the back of Paul’s stupid leather duster and all but dragged him into their trailer. To his credit, the other man went with it, though he did nearly stop when he was marched passed a glaring Maggie.

Once inside, Daryl slammed the door shut behind them and began pacing as Paul stayed standing where he was, watching him in silence.

“Ya got any idea how close I am to stranglin’ you right now?”

“Well judging by your face I’d say it’s a sure bet to be honest.”

“Drop the fuckin’ sarcasm Paul, I ain’ in the damn mood.”

Paul had obviously read the lay of the land by now and just nodded, face going serious as he sat down at the table. “Sit down and talk to me then.”

Daryl nearly refused but the adrenaline was leaving him, his body feeling shaky and tired. He dropped heavily into the chair opposite and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“So what’s all this about then?”

The urge to snap at the man was back, but when he met Paul’s eyes, he realised he wasn’t just being smart with him. He genuinely didn’t understand what the big deal was.

“Why’d you go off on your own huh? Without lettin’ anyone know? Didn’ even leave me no damn note.”

Paul’s brow furrowed. “I always go out on my own. Or I did before the war at least. Heard Carson say we needed some medical things and decided to get a list together of things people needed and make a run whilst I wasn’t busy. I scouted a little run of shops ages ago with a pharmacy, but it was too close to the Saviours territory to chance until now. And besides, Kal knew I’d gone out.”

“Don’ even say that idiots name in front of me righ’ now man. That ain’ good enough. I get needin’ to make runs, but ya didn’ need to go alone. It ain’ safe.”

“Daryl, the wars done with, things are as settled as they’ve ever been and I’m more than able to take care of myself. Who do you think did all the runs before?”

Daryl banged his hand on the table. “That’s bullshit! Yeah the war might be over but that don’ mean it ain’ still dangerous. Anythin’ could go wrong and I wouldn’ even know what happened to ya! Jus’ days an’ days of nothin’ till I’d eventually convince Maggie to let me go after ya! An with no idea where you went how long would I end up lookin’ for huh? If you needed help it’d be too damn late by then! Maybe all I’d find of ya would be bloody bones or a damn walker!”

“Woah woah Daryl, calm down.” Paul reached out and grabbed one of his flailing arms, gripping his wrist gently. He could probably feel his racing pulse under his fingers, Daryl’s heart feeling like it was pounding through his chest, breath coming quick and erratic. The bodies of too many people he’d cared about flashing through his mind, memories of too many close calls the rest of them had only managed to escape because they were together.

The gentle stroke of Paul’s thumb over the inside of his wrist slowly brought Daryl back from the fuzzy static in his brain, his breath finally slowing to normal again.

“I’m sorry okay, I really am. I promise you, I didn’t think it’d worry you. I don’t ever want to do that Daryl.”

He held Daryl’s gaze until he eventually nodded, feeling more like himself again, before letting go of Daryl’s wrist. It felt cold without his hand.

“Look,” Paul began before trailing off with a sigh, eyes leaving Daryl’s and looking down at his lap, pressing his thumb into his palm like he always did when he was anxious or trying to work through something in his head.

“I can’t say I won’t go out on runs. I _need_ to. That was always my job before and I was good at it. There were a few other people that would help from time to time, but I was usually the only one able to do it and do it well. Now that the war’s finished and we aren’t fighting or planning anymore... well, guess I just feel a bit useless. Like I’m not sure what help i’m being. So when I heard Carson needed some things, I was just happy there was something I could do to actually be of use.”

As different as they were, Daryl couldn’t help but notice this was another startling similarity between them. He could perfectly understand what Paul was feeling; if he couldn’t contribute then what use was he? If he wasn’t helping his community then what was the point of him? He knew how stressful that mindset was, and how hard it was to snap out of.

“Yeah,” he muttered, voice rough and quiet, “I know that feelin’”

Paul looked up and whatever he saw in Daryl made him nod, kindred spirits acknowledging each other.

“I get why ya wanna keep goin’ out, but ya don’ need to do it alone alrigh’? Next time ya goin’ out, just tell me an I’ll go with ya okay?”

Paul looked surprised for a moment before he softened, his warm smile making Daryl’s heart start beating too hard again.

“Yeah, yeah okay, I can do that. Be nice to head out just the two of us actually.”

Daryl’s face heated up as he ducked his head, choking out a gruff “Okay then.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

Daryl looked up again in confusion. “What dya mean?”

Paul’s face broke out into a shit eating grin. “You don’t want to make me pinkie promise?”

Daryl reached over to punch him in the arm. “Thin ice asshole, thin ice.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Again, if anyone wants to drop me another prompt, go for gold! Xxxx


	3. Chapter 3

In the months since the incident over his run, he and Daryl had gotten even closer. They spent pretty much all of their free time together and even though they often had very busy days doing very different jobs, one of them always managed to seek the other out for some reason or another. Daryl usually brought him food on the days he was too busy, knowing damn well Paul would totally forget otherwise and Paul always managed to convince Daryl to take a break when the other man was working himself too hard.

But no matter what, the highlight of Paul’s day was the hours they spent together in their trailer once all the work was done and everyone was bedding down for the night. He loved those nights, he really did.

Daryl spent most of his time at Hilltop now, so Paul had long ago shoved the lumpy couch Daryl had been sleeping on into the corner and tracked down a fold out single bed. He wasn’t sure how comfortable it’d be but Daryl assured him it was more than fine for him, a step up from the mattress on the floor he had in the attic of Rick’s house. And with that they became official roommates.

They both had fairly erratic sleeping patterns and as social as Paul was, by the time the sun had set, he’d usually met his quota for dealing with people. It was nice, nicer than he could ever have thought really, to get to be in someone’s company where it didn’t matter if they talked or not, he could just relax.

Paul had slowly come to realise that he didn’t have to keep up a front around Daryl, he was free to be himself in whatever mood he was in that evening. Some nights they’d chat shit for hours, others Paul would just read whilst Daryl worked on his bow or picked out something to read of his own.

When he was growing up in any of his group homes, sharing a room was torture at worse and an annoyance at best. He was never able to fully relax, always on the lookout for someone stealing his few possessions or harassing him when he was asleep. Once he’d finally aged out and left, Paul tried to avoid sharing with anybody again. Even boyfriends rarely stayed for longer than one night, if that. Solitude was safety for him, the one place he didn’t have to be anything for anybody. But it certainly got lonely.

Even when Maggie, Enid and Sasha stayed with him, as much as he actually enjoyed it on the nights he stayed there with them, he still felt like he had to keep his front up. They needed him to be a certain thing for them at the time; calm, knowledgeable, an ally. Daryl just seemed to want him to be himself. Paul never knew how nice that was but he was sure he could happily keep it up for as long as possible. Forever even. And wasn’t that just a terrifying and wonderful thought.

So it came as quite the surprise when Daryl’s opinion on the matter seemed to change almost overnight.

Daryl had been grumpier than usual for a few days, twitchy too. It was almost like he was during the war. He stopped talking to Paul as much, then barely at all. It wasn’t until Paul got home late that night to a growling, cramping stomach that he realised Daryl hadn’t dropped by with dinner for him. In fact, he hadn’t seen him at all.

Grabbing a protein bar, he wolfed it down and got in bed, trying to stay awake by reading until Daryl got in. But a long week got the best of him and he fell asleep, book still open on his lap. What must have been a few hours later, he heard the door open and Daryl get into his bed. Feeling relieved, Paul drifted easily back to sleep, maybe he’d just been busy too. Maybe Paul had just been overreacting.

But Daryl had long since woken and left by the time Paul woke up. Anxiety starting to eat at him, he promised himself that he’d make time to track down the hunter today.

After a busy morning and afternoon, Paul made good on that promise, heading to the kitchen to grab them both some food before going to track down his friend. He found him easily, helping Earl build a new stall for the two pigs they’d found in the forest.

“Hey Earl.” He waved at the large man, heading over to where Daryl was hammering posts into the ground. _Damn_ what a sight. Paul cleared his throat and shook that thought right out of his head.

“Break time Daryl, I brought you some food.”

“Ain’ hungry.”

Paul’s smile dropped. Daryl hadn’t sounded that short, that cold with him for a long, long time. He hadn’t even turned around.

But he wasn’t one to quit, so Paul simply walked around until he was facing Daryl over the posts he was still resolutely working on.

“Nope, not a chance. You’ve earned a break and this is a damn fine stew. So come on and eat with me.”

Nothing.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he wheedled. “Don’t make me force feed you, coz I will.”

Daryl finally raised his head and looked at him, but it wasn’t friendly in the slightest.

“I said I ain’ hungry so will ya back off an leave me alone?!”

Paul stopped short, even Earl looking over in surprise at Daryl’s snapping. He refused to acknowledge his heart sinking.

“Oh,” he mumbled, feeling all off kilter. “Right, well. Guess I’ll just leave it here.”

He put the bowl on a stool near the fence and when Daryl didn’t even look at him again, he left.

Daryl could be grumpy sometimes and yeah, he still had a temper. But he hadn’t sounded or looked like that in a while, certainly not towards him.

Paul retreated into Barrington house, trying not to let his mind go over what just happened too much. Appetite all but gone, he choked down just enough to keep him going and gave the rest to Maggie before heading back to his many jobs. Hopefully that’d take his mind off things until he could talk to Daryl that night and find out what was bothering him.

But even though he stayed awake for hours, Daryl never came in.

The following morning was a flurry of activity; Paul due to head to the Kingdom on an overnight stay to do a drop and swap. He’d been sure that Daryl was coming with him like always, but ten minutes before he was about to set off, Dante came jogging over and said he’d be coming instead. When Paul asked why Daryl couldn’t come, the other man just shrugged and told him Daryl said he was too busy.

The drive to the Kingdom was torture, Paul’s mind going over every little thing he could possibly have done to piss Daryl off. But he couldn’t think of a single thing.

“You’re quiet today Jesus.”

Paul had genuinely forgot Dante was with him, so that was hardly surprising. “Sorry Dante, was just thinking.”

The other man nodded with a smirk. “Trouble in paradise huh?”

How Paul didn’t hit the brake, he’d never know.

“Wait, what?” He all but stuttered out.

“Yeah, you and Daryl seem to be having a spat. You’ve been attached at the hip for months, giving him big cow eyes, then all of a sudden he won’t come anywhere near you? What did you do huh?”

Paul felt like ice had been injected into his veins, head all fuzzy. He knew Dante didn’t mean to be an asshole but he’d honestly have been kinder just punching him in the face rather than saying that.

Because if fucking _Dante_ had noticed Paul’s crush then there was a damn good chance Daryl had figured it out too. Or worse, someone else at Hilltop had said something. No wonder he’d been avoiding him.

“Shit, sorry Jesus, didn’t mean to touch a nerve. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

Paul didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t speak the whole journey. He felt too sick.

The drop and swap went perfectly and gave him the chance to switch his mind off and just focus on his job, always enjoying his chats with Ezekiel and the terrifying Carol. But it was when the work was finished, food eaten and Paul was shown his room for the night that it all flooded back in.

What followed was a whole night of tossing and turning, trying in vain not to freak out. He knew he’d been stupid to catch feelings for Daryl, he’d always felt it was stupid to catch feelings for anyone to be honest, but with Daryl it felt so right that he hadn’t even noticed it was something more than attraction until it was too late. And now Daryl obviously knew.

Paul tried to convince himself that the burning ache in his chest had nothing to do with the fact that either Daryl didn’t feel the same way and was just too awkward to do anything other than avoid him for now, or Daryl didn’t feel the same and was downright angry with him.

Either way, Paul lost.

Meanwhile, back in Hilltop, Daryl was sat against the top most window in the attic of Barrington house, pressing his finished cigarette into his hand in an effort to stay awake.

The pain was good, a little sharp shock that jolted his mind awake and cleared the feeling of delirium away, if only for a little while. He couldn’t fall asleep, he _wouldn’t_. Daryl wasn’t sure how much more of his nightmares he could handle right now.

It was one of his black spells again. The first one in a long time, since he moved in with Paul in fact. It started out with one horrific night terror so bad that he nearly woke up screaming, only to find himself unable to move for a moment. When the temporary paralysis lifted, Daryl threw himself out of bed, desperate to move. He was surprised and grateful he managed to not wake Paul up, the other man was absolutely exhausted and Daryl didn’t want him to see him like this; shaking apart at the seams, silent tears working down his face as he resisted the urge to scream.

After that, everything changed. He’d actually been happy for the past few months; he was needed in Hilltop and threw himself into it, he and Maggie felt like family again, the fighting was over and most of all, he had Paul.

Daryl had never had this kind of connection before, never _felt_ like this before. He’d had hints of it, little pale tasters from various people; the unspoken understanding of Carol, the mutual dependency and loyalty of Rick, the kindness and forgiveness of Beth and so much more. It was like Paul was the best parts of his family and friends, all wrapped up into something... else. Something he refused to put a name to for his own sanity.

All he knew was he needed Paul, actually craved his company in fact. The hours they spent together felt like karma paying him back for all the shit hands he’d been dealt.

Daryl never wanted to lose that, which is why he couldn’t let Paul see him like this.

In the days following his first nightmare, Daryl felt exactly like he had during the war. His paranoia was through the roof, an alarm constantly blaring in his head, drowning out all other noise and thoughts. His nightmares got worse so he stopped coming into the trailer until Paul was asleep and left the second his dreams woke him up, usually only an hour or two later. Eventually he just decided to stop heading to bed at all.

Daryl was tired, snappy and downright mean at times. He didn’t want to inflict that on Paul again but in his panic and exhaustion, couldn’t quite think of a better way to distance himself for a while other than avoid him and when that didn’t work, be a absolute asshole to him.

He regretted it as soon as he’d said it, the hurt look on Paul’s face like a knife to him. He wanted to call him back over to explain himself, but all the words he’d managed to rediscover abandoned him, nothing left but the base human instinct to push away.

He needed to get his head in the game before he could really engage with Paul again, so when he remembered the overnight trip to the Kingdom he was meant to go on, he sent Dante in his place. Hopefully, by the time Paul was back he’d have his shit together again.

But as Daryl kept watch over Hilltop and the surrounding area, his paranoia and fear was screaming that if he slept, he’d miss some creeping danger and everyone he loved, everything they’d rebuilt would be snatched away.

Once the sun rose, another night of sleepless terror done, Daryl dragged himself for a cold shower, hoping it’d clear his fuzzy head some. It marginally helped and he threw himself into another day of hard labour, trying to wear himself out enough to not have to think or feel.

He worked nonstop until there was nothing more to do for the day, the sun starting to go down. Paul and Dante should be back any minute so Daryl had to make himself scarce. Just one more night and he’d be fine, he had to be.

Once he heard the car approach the gate, relieved to know they’d made it back safe, Daryl grabbed his things and headed back to the highest point of Barrington, settling in for another night of keeping watch. Through the window, he watched Paul help unload the car.

Even though he was never actually very far away from him, Daryl missed Paul with an aching fierceness that surprised him. He missed their lunch breaks, missed the warm smiles Paul would shoot him whenever they crossed paths. Most of all, he missed the hours they’d spend in their trailer, talking or relaxing. Daryl had grown too used to Paul’s quiet breaths as he slept, interrupted by the occasional loud snore that the other man swore blind Daryl was just making up. He just missed _him_.

But no matter how much he wanted to see Paul, he refused to let Paul see him; an exhausted, jittery mess, three new cigarette burns littering his hand as he sat on guard with his crossbow and gun, as though an enemy would break through their gates any moment and only he could stop it.

Hours passed, Hilltop shrouded in dark when he heard it, jolting up onto his knees and drawing his knife as the attic door opened, heart pounding, muscles tense and ready to jump. How had they found him? Where would he be taken? Had his family been hurt to get to him?

“Woah Daryl, it’s me!”

His breaths were coming too quick but he did recognise that voice, cutting through the static of his brain like always. Paul.

Fuck.

Collapsing back on his ass, Daryl dropped the knife with numb fingers and just tried to calm his racing heart. All he’d wanted was to avoid Paul seeing him like this and instead, he’d nearly knifed him.

“Hey, can I come closer? Daryl? I’m coming to sit next to you okay?”

He managed to nod shakily, Paul’s slow, calm tones giving him something to focus on. Daryl watched him come slowly into the room, shutting the door behind him gently as he came towards him step by step, giving Daryl every chance to tell him to back off. Ordinarily he’d have been pissed at being treated like some damn spooked animal, but he was self aware enough to realise he nearly lunged at his friend with a knife in his panic. Slow was probably best right now.

Soon, Paul’s warm presence sat next to him, Daryl trying to subtly press himself into his arm further, needing the solid weight of his friend more than he could actually put into words.

“So this is where you’ve been huh?”

Daryl nodded, head down as he stared at the gauges he’d carved in the wood beneath him for the past few nights.

“Do you want to tell me why?” came Paul’s quiet voice, gentle as always in what he asked of him. And to his surprise, Daryl felt like he did want to tell him, if only to not have to keep himself away from Paul anymore.

“On watch.” He managed to stutter out, mentally kicking himself that it was all he could force out right then.

But as always, Paul surprised him. Nodding, he just got himself more settled against Daryl’s side and looked out of the window.

“Okay then, I’ll watch with you.”

Daryl just managed to choke back a sob that had been building for days, just a tiny whine deep in his chest escaping. His body felt boneless with relief, a lump in the back of his throat as he realised he might not have to do this alone. That Paul wouldn’t tell him he was being stupid or judge him, he’d simply back him up, as though it was the simplest and most obvious thing to do.

“Been havin’ bad nightmares again,” he muttered finally. “Had one so bad a few nights ago I nearly woke up screamin’, couldn’ even move for a few seconds. Been havin’ em every time I close my eyes.”

“That why you haven’t been in the trailer? Have you been here?” Paul carried on keeping watch as he spoke, letting Daryl relax slowly.

“Yeah. Jus’ felt like if I didn’, somethin’ bad would happen. An it’d be my fault again. Gotta keep watch an keep ya safe. All of ya.”

He heard Paul let out a shaky breath, maybe he’d caught Daryl’s slip of the tongue, maybe he hadn’t. But either way, his hand reached along the floor to find Daryl’s, smoothing a thumb over the new burns in his skin.

“Whenever this happens again, you’ve gotta promise to tell me okay? We’ll watch together.”

Together. Yeah, Daryl liked the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hope you enjoyed it! Drop me a comment if you did, they really do make my entire day. And as always, if anyone has any other prompts, just let me know :) xxxx


	4. Chapter 4

He had it coming. It wasn’t Daryl’s fault that he felt he’d discovered his divine purpose. Someone needed to _royally_ fuck with Paul, for all of them.

As the months rolled on, both Daryl and Paul relaxed more, grew so close they were practically one unit. But as always, when Paul didn’t have the stress and weight of a whole community and its moral decisions on his shoulders, he morphed into the _worst_ kind of tricky little shit imaginable. And with his skills, it was damn near impossible to stop him. Daryl was the usual victim of his pranks, but he’d soon moved on to the rest of Hilltop, even Alexandria when he visited. Luckily he was shit scared of Carol, so the Kingdom got a pass.

On this particular day however, Daryl woke up with the absolute knowledge and conviction that today, he was going to mess with Paul right back. He’d be gone all day with Maggie and a bunch of the builders, watching their backs as the rest of them tried to figure out a good place for the new expansion. Daryl had full reign of the trailer.

Which was how he found himself lugging bags and bags of books up to the roof of said trailer. Damn man was a hoarder for sure, always bringing weird shit back from his runs, but books in particular were his weakness. He was also insanely touchy about their order and how they were looked after, often throwing something at Daryl’s head whenever he knocked into them. Last night it was a slice of apple, right to the middle of his forehead.

If there was one thing that was _guaranteed_ to piss the little prick off, making giant card towers out of his books on the roof of the trailer would definitely do it.

And so, Daryl began his work. He’d always been good at building weird shit and finding the right place to balance things, so before long he had some rather decent looking towers.

“The hell you doing Daryl?”

Peaking over the edge, he saw Kal and Bertie staring at him with wide eyes.

“Revenge. Long overdue revenge.”

Kal whistled as Bertie cackled. “Damn you’ve got some balls. Pretty sure messing up his books is an execution worthy offence. This’ll be funny to watch, I’ll pass the word around.”

Still chuckling, they walked off. Sure enough, a few people came to see his creations for themselves, laughing and offering up warnings or suggestions. Over the next few hours, Daryl had some rather impressive towers, a castle looking structure topped with some flags Enid had dug out and a strange Eiffel Tower looking thing.

Satisfied with his work, Daryl sat on the edge of the trailer, legs swinging off the side as he waited. They should be coming back any moment and most of Hilltop had conveniently found reasons to be loitering outside.

Sure enough, the gates opened and in poured the group; the builders first, tailed by the chatting Paul and Maggie. They walked further into Hilltop, accompanied by most of the smirking residents until the trailer came fully into view.

It was Maggie that spotted it first, coming to a halt as a smirk that managed to be both warm and vicious spread over her face.

Everyone waited with baited breath as Maggie tugged Paul’s sleeve and nodded to the trailer.

Paul looked up, his eyes went wide as he took it in for a moment, then narrowed. He slowly turned back to Maggie, removed his coat and handed it to her.

“I’m sorry for what I have to do.”

Daryl could clearly hear Paul’s very convincing remorseful tone, tensing his muscles and getting ready to run.

Sure enough, Paul spun back around and glared at him with an expression that spelt death. Then he charged.

“I am going to KILL you!” he hollered, Hilltop breaking out into laughter as Daryl leaped from the roof and took off, Paul hot on his heels and shouting all manner of insults and promises of pain at him.

“Don’t promise what ya can’ deliver!” Daryl shouted over his shoulder, the two of them dashing around Hilltop like little kids, pelting each other with whatever they could grab on the run. It was the freest he’d felt in years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a shorter chapter this time but the final one will be up tomorrow :) hope you enjoy, leave me a comment because it literally gives me life and as always, if you have a prompt, chuck it at me :) xxxx


	5. Chapter 5

Paul could hardly believe it’d been a year. A whole year since that hellish war finally ended; a whole year of healing and rebuilding, of making their way together in the new world. It seemed too good to be true sometimes and he knew Daryl felt the same, but it was real, the communities were working strong, helping each other heal and grow.

To celebrate this fact, Rick had suggested hosting a huge party in the mostly rebuilt Alexandria. Everyone eagerly jumped at the chance and while Paul wasn’t necessarily too into parties, all those people together usually only making him feel more alone, even he couldn’t help but get excited for it.

He wasn’t however, all that thrilled about not seeing Daryl for a week and a half. Rick had needed his help so of course Daryl went, and Maggie needed Paul’s, so of course he stayed. But it still surprised him just how painfully he missed the other man. Paul had always prided himself on being able to up and leave whenever he wanted, both before and definitely after the Turn. But once he’d met the Alexandrian’s; met Maggie, Enid, Sasha and especially Daryl, he felt like he finally _belonged_ somewhere.

The downside of course, was him feeling uncharacteristically moody by the second day of Daryl’s absence. Paul knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed, Maggie grinning at him whenever he was too outwardly sulky and he knew that by now, his crush could probably be seen from space.

No, it wasn’t even a crush anymore if he was totally honest with himself. It had stopped being that after a couple of months, now it was just... well. It was what it was.

But finally, after far too long, the day of the celebration had arrived. It was a beautiful early summer day, the perfect temperature for being outside. Paul spent the morning organising where the food and drinks Hilltop was bringing would go, as well as packing a truck full of extra chairs and tables.

By afternoon, everything that could be done by then was finished and packed away, leaving everyone time to get dressed up. Usually Paul couldn’t give two shits what he wore, going for practicality over anything else, but this was a party and sue him, he wanted to look nice.

But as he stood in his trailer, not a stitch on him other than underwear, searching high and low for any kind of half decent outfit, he reluctantly uttered those dreaded six words.

“I don’t have _anything_ to wear.” Shit.

A knock jolted him out of his wardrobe breakdown, the door swinging open before he could even speak as Maggie walked in with a bag.

“Maggie!”

She just tutted at him, a noise she’d perfected since baby Hershel was born.

“Oh shush you. I take it ya ain’ got anything to wear right?”

“How do _you_ know?”

She rolled her eyes, “Jesus, between me, Sasha and Enid, I’m pretty sure we’ve seen every item of clothing you own and worn more than half of it. Ya got nothing.”

Yeah she had a point actually. Nodding, he sat down heavily on his bed. “Got any bright ideas then? It’s stupid right, to care about not having anything nice for a party when we’ve still got dead people walking around everywhere.”

“Well, if it _is_ stupid, pretty much everyone going to this party is swept up in it too. You’ve been too busy to notice but I’m pretty sure the only thing being scavenged and traded the past few weeks has been clothes.”

“Guess I should have got in on it earlier then huh?”

Grinning at him, she held up the bad she’d brought in with her.

“Actually, I may have taken care of that for ya. Me an Enid had a bet going on when you’d start to freak out. I won.”

Paul’s stomach rolled with peasant nerves, a smile breaking out on his face. Maggie was without doubt, the best friend he’d ever had.

“You really are amazing you know that?”

Laughing, she threw the bag at him. “Flattery will get ya nowhere with me Jesus, so save it. Now go on and try that on, I think it should fit.”

Standing up, he pressed a kiss to her head and headed to his tiny bathroom to change. Taking a deep breath, he opened the bag, reaching in and taking hold of a nice pair of jeans. Like, _really_ nice. Though...

“Err, Maggie?” he called through the door. “Don’t you think these jeans might be a little tight?”

“Trust me Jesus!”

Muttering to himself, he shook them out and put them on. Well, they did fit, though he hadn’t worn pants this tight in years. Reaching back into the bag, Paul pulled out the only other item in there; a truly beautiful dark green shirt. The material felt nicer than anything he’d ever owned and on closer inspection, there was a very faint flower pattern in darker green. It was gorgeous.

Pulling it on, he fastened the buttons and smoothed it down. This too was tighter than his usual fair but even without a mirror, he could tell it fit him well. He pulled his hair out of the bun it’d been drying in and shook it out, straightening his shirt once more before he stepped out to see Maggie eagerly waiting.

“Wow.”

“So it’s okay then?”

“Are you kidding? You look amazing! I knew I picked right.”

Paul smiled at her, pulling her up from her seat to hug her. “Honestly Maggie, it’s beautiful, thank you. It really means a lot.”

“You’re most welcome Jesus. Now I best go get my own glad rags on and help Enid with her hair. Carl finally asked her out on a proper date ya know?”

Chuckling, he let go of her and walked her to the door.

“Oh, by the way... Daryl won’t know what’s hit him.”

“Wait, _what_? Maggie, get back here!”

But she just laughed and waved over her shoulder as she carried on walking away towards Barrington house, leaving Paul a nervous, overthinking mess.

He spent the next half an hour flipping between butterflies and downright nausea until finally, a car beeped to let everyone know it was time to go. Throwing on his usual boots, he smoothed himself over once more before finally leaving the trailer and walking towards the meeting point. He’d be driving with Maggie, Enid, Kal and Dante, the latter letting out a wolf whistle when he walked up, nudging his friend.

“Damn Jesus, you brush up good man!”

“Yeah, guess someone’s getting lucky tonight huh?”

He flipped them both the bird, pointedly ignoring their laughter and his own twisting stomach. Luckily, Maggie and Enid walked over looking like visions.

“Wow, you both look absolutely beautiful.”

And they really did, Maggie in a royal blue dress with a baby Hershel perched on her hip, looking even more magnificent and strong than usual. Enid looked lovely too in a flowing baby pink sundress with little pink flowers in her hair.

Looking around, Paul saw that everyone going to the party had made as much of an effort as possible, all looking absolutely wonderful and some even downright unrecognisable. It was a truly lovely sight to see, like they were finally _living_ again and not just surviving. After everyone had finished commenting on each other’s outfits, they all loaded up the finished food, got in their vehicles and headed off.

The hours drive was pure torment for Paul, his heart beating way too fast and butterflies refusing to leave his stomach. He couldn’t even say for sure why. Yes he was looking forward to the party, though they’d always tended to make him nervous anyway, but most of all, he was both dying to see Daryl and sick over the thought of it.

Something felt different, like he was right on the edge of something he could barely even name, let alone get his hopes up for. He needed to chill out. They’d see each other again and it’d be exactly as it always was; then they’d eat and drink and talk, enjoying the party with all of their people.

Yeah, that’d be all.

It was early evening by the time they arrived, the summer night keeping the sun out for longer and only just beginning to dim slightly. It was a beautiful night for this.

The gate was opened and they all drove up to it to hand off their food, gifts and furniture before they moved their cars back out of the way. It was a good extra fifteen minutes until they were done and Paul could properly enter Alexandria and look around.

It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. The community itself had always been lovely, but after the bombing they’d had to rebuild so much. Now it was a strange but no less pretty hodgepodge of repaired houses and buildings. But most of all, the Alexandrian’s had set up a party to revival all parties.

The whole place was a buzz of activity; various fires already spread out for cooking and warmth once the sun left them, tables and chairs of all kinds from all groups had been put everywhere, many already covered in food and drinks. Fairy lights, candles and lanterns littered the entire place, giving it a warm, welcoming glow.

Paul felt himself grinning like an idiot as he took in the atmosphere of the place. But in the middle of all the joy, he couldn’t help but turn to the woman stood frozen by his side. This was the first time Maggie had stepped foot inside Alexandria since the war.

“You okay Maggie?” he asked her gently, pressing a hand to her back. She turned to him with a melancholy smile.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful. But... I just keep expecting him to come down the street now? I didn’t during the war. But _this_?” She trailed off, voice going tight. “He should be here to see this.”

Mindful of Hershel, Paul pulled her into a hug, letting her get herself together. Over her shoulder, Paul caught sight of Aaron with his own bundle of joy and immediately recognised the same expression on his face that had been on Maggie’s. Aaron, perceptive as always, came over straight away, taking over once Paul had let go. They both understood this more than he did.

But seeing them both had lit in him a fierce desire to find Daryl. Yeah, Paul might not have him like he wished he could, but Daryl was still _here_ , still alive and he wanted to share this with him. He was one of the lucky ones after all.

Heading over to where a knot of Daryl’s family stood, he greeted Rick, Michonne and Carol, watching with a smile as Carl handed Enid a bunch of flowers before they walked off hand in hand. He chatted with the three for a little while, trying to subtly keep an eye out for Daryl. But he was nowhere to be seen, he wasn’t even with Ezekiel, Rosita and Tara when they finally joined them. The latter two commenting on his outfit, Tara especially asking why he’d put so much effort in, with a smirk that told him she knew _exactly_ why.

“Something the matter Jesus?”

Paul turned to look at Carol, trying very hard not to be intimidated by her friendly smile and pleasant tone. Daryl had told him enough about her for him to know it was bullshit and to watch out whenever she used it.

“Err no, nothing.”

She just nodded genially, leaning back into Ezekiel but keeping her eyes on Paul, like she was waiting, letting him stew.

Oh fuck it.

“Actually, has anyone seen Daryl. He is coming right?”

Now that was the real Carol smile; sharp and honest, like she’d caught him out in something. She opened her mouth to respond but was, thankfully, interrupted by a grinning Rick.

“Yeah yeah, he’s comin’. Probably still gettin’ himself together to be honest.”

Okay now Paul really felt like everyone knew something he didn’t. He did _not_ like that, much happier when it was the other way around like it should be. He was unsure of how to respond but was saved that particular humiliation by Rick’s expression as he looked over Paul’s head with a nod.

“Speak of the devil.”

Paul’s heart shot into his throat as they all smiled at what they saw behind him. Stomach rolling, he slowly turned around.

His jaw nearly hit the floor.

Coming up the street towards them was easily the best looking man he’d ever seen in his entire life. Yeah, Paul had always found Daryl attractive but _this_... this was something else.

The other man had a newish looking pair of nice, dark jeans and a deep burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was delicious to be quite honest. But more than that, his hair was freshly washed and looked like it’d been trimmed, suiting him even better.

All of this was already drop dead gorgeous, but the thing that really topped it off was his expression. He just looked happy, relaxed; a small smile on his face as he walked towards him. Paul was utterly captivated, frozen to the spot.

A gentle push to the small of his back reminded him that he could, in fact move and then suddenly he knew there wasn’t a thing on this earth that could stop him from walking towards Daryl, meeting him halfway, surrounded by twinkling lights and the sound of happiness on all sides.

Stopping in front of each other, Daryl ducked his head shyly as Paul carried on staring, finally tearing his eyes away as he cleared his throat.

“Wow, err, hi. How’re you? You look good by the way, _really_ good actually. Not that you don’t always, just, particularly tonight...”

Oh God he needed to stop talking. He used to have _game_ , what the fuck happened?

But it only made Daryl look up again, face slightly pinker. “Yeah, so do you. But ya always do.”

If it was possible to die of shock, tonight really wasn’t looking good for him. A terrible, sweeping hope burned through Paul then, Daryl’s words warming him from the inside out until he felt like he’d burst with it.

Something caught Daryl’s attention from behind Paul, something that prompted him to flip someone the bird as he huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. Paul had a good idea what that might have been about.

Meeting his eyes again, Daryl went perfectly still for a moment, then took a deep breath, like he’d made some kind of decision.

“Do you err, wanna come walk with me?”

Heart pounding so hard Paul was sure Daryl could hear it, he nodded, both of them smiling like idiots at each other before they even started moving.

They walked close together through the darkening streets, most of the light coming from the fires, candles and fairy lights all around. It was magical. They waved whenever greetings were shouted at them, Daryl stopping briefly to grab them both a drink of scotch, their fingers touching briefly as he passed it to him.

Soon, the throngs of people thinned out and they both came to a stop on a quiet bench perfectly overlooking everything. They sat down and watched it all for a moment. Paul could feel Daryl’s body heat perfectly with how close they sat together, happily watching all of their people mingling happy and safe in front of them.

It was all so perfect Paul barely knew what to do with himself and all the things he was feeling.   
  
“Never thought this would’a been possible ya know?”

The deep rumble of Daryl’s voice brought him out of his thoughts as Paul turned his head to look at him, the other man still watching the party.

“Yeah, me neither. Always hoped we’d make it but I never could have dreamed we’d get to this.”

Daryl nodded, eyes still looking forward as he took another deep breath.

“I err, never had much hope for m’life. Not before the turn and definitely not after. All I wanted was to protect my family for as long as I could and when my time was up, go down helpin’ them an that’d be it.”

“I know.”

Paul knew it went a lot deeper than that and Daryl knew that too. They’d both opened up about how little they cared about their own lives beyond what it could do for the people they cared about. Daryl knew that Paul nearly gave up long before the turn and Paul knew that once Negan came into their lives, Daryl had little to no will to survive at all, stricken with trauma and self destructing in every way. The thought of it still sent Paul cold.

“But it ain’ like that no more. ‘Finishin’ the war an’ gettin’ to rebuild would have been good enough for me, I could have settled with that.”

He paused, finally moving his eyes away from the party to meet Paul’s.

“But it’s coz of you tha’ I’m actually happy. Properly happy, maybe for the firs’ time in m’life.”

Paul could hardly breathe, could hardly dare believe what he was hearing, so sure he’d wake up and it’d all have been a dream. For once, Daryl was the one with all the words while Paul could barely get his out.

“I’m happy too Daryl, more than you could possibly know.”

Daryl smiled softly, seeming relieved and encouraged enough to gently take hold of Paul’s hand, winding their fingers together and running his thumb over Paul’s skin when he clutched back tightly, like Daryl would disappear if he didn’t.

“Good, that’s good,” he replied, a little huffing laugh leaving him, like he couldn’t believe this either, before staring right at Paul again.

“Coz I wan’ more years like this. Wan’ more time with all of them but most of all with you. Wanna get to sit right here with you every year.”

Paul had never even thought to hope for this. He’d always assumed he’d walk through his life alone; only ever getting to look in on other people’s happiness, other people’s families. For the first time since he was a child, he actually felt tears in his eyes.

“You promise?” He managed to choke out, voice thick with emotion.

At his words, a smile broke out on Daryl’s face that he’d never seen before. It was like sunshine, like everything warm and good in the world.

“Yeah, yeah I promise.”

With a laugh that was almost a sob, Paul pulled Daryl into a hug, their arms wrapping round each other, two odd pieces that had finally found where they were meant to fit.

They slowly pulled apart, resting their foreheads together as they smiled like nothing bad had ever touched them. Then, as naturally and easily as anything could be, they finally kissed. It felt like coming home, like a million promises all rolled into one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there we are folks, my first Desus fic! I really enjoyed doing this one, even if it totally ran away with me. I’ve got two more prompt fics in the works and a longer fic too, so those should be up sometime soonish :) thank you to everyone who’s read, liked and commented, you’re all lovely. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too :) xxxx


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